


Discretion

by mypoisonedvine



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Prostitution, mostly just smut and fluff, with some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypoisonedvine/pseuds/mypoisonedvine
Summary: In a sense, joining the Army made Bucky Barnes into a man.  He’s certainly grown in a legal sense.  However, there’s one other aspect of ‘becoming a man’ that he hasn’t quite achieved yet, and he’s tired of hearing all his Army buddies talk smack about it.  So, he decides to consult an expert.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Discretion

“Hello?” came the nervous voice from your porch, after you failed to answer the first knock. 

You opened the door to find an Army soldier, young and bright-eyed, wearing his more formal uniform, and looking like a fish out of water.

“Oh,” the man– barely a man, but technically so– said as he saw you, “are you… is this apartment 13?”

“That’s… what it says on the door, I hope.”

“Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure…” he began. “I just, I heard there was a woman that lived here, who…”

You gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to say it, but he choked a bit on the words.

“A woman that, um, a lady– uh, it’s probably just a joke, or a rumor or something–”

“You heard that the woman living in apartment 13 get visits from soldiers?” you finally completed for him.

“Uh, yeah,” he agreed. “Is that– is it you?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered with a small smile, “I’m quite the patriot. Would you like to come in?”

“Thank you,” he nodded, stepping past you once you opened the door fully. He jumped a little when you shut the door behind him, but took his hat off anyway and tucked it under his arm.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” he refused. 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking you to pay first.”

“Of course,” he nervously agreed, pulling out a wallet, “all I have is this five…”

“That’ll do,” you nodded, “just leave it on that dresser. How’d you hear this rumor about the woman in apartment 13?”

“I got your information from my bunkmate; he gave a, uh, glowing recommendation.”

You smiled a little. “Is that so?”

“And maybe a little more detailed than I personally needed to know,” he added with a frown. You laughed.

“Yes; I may exercise discretion, but many clients do not.”

“You see… a lot of guys, then?”

“Don’t worry yourself with that,” you dismissed. “It’s just you here now. Let’s talk about you.”

“Right,” he nodded, sounding like he’d rather not do that.

“You seem a little out of your element,” you presumed.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Sweetheart… is this your first time?” you asked gently.

“Of course, I’ve never seen a prostitute before– is that… the right word?”

“You know that’s not what I was asking, darlin’. Are you a virgin?”

He looked away but nodded. “Uh, yes, I am.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart, you’re young.”

“Not so young, I’m 18.”

“That is, in fact, ‘so young,’” you frowned.

“If you say so. The Army’s made me grow up fast, though.”

“I’m sure it has,” you acquiesced. “Why don’t you have a seat on that sofa?”

He did as you asked, and you took a seat next to him, tucking your legs up on the cushions and leaning your head on your hand. He looked at you with a nervous smile, wiping his palms on the legs of his trousers.

“So, your chest says ‘Barnes,’” you observed, pointing to it. 

“Oh, yes,” he nodded, “James Barnes, but, everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Is that what you would like me to call you?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Alright, Bucky,” you agreed, trying the name out, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand, introduced yourself, and he smiled a little. “He told me your name. I thought it was pretty. Not… not necessarily what I expected.”

“What did you expect? I guess a stereotypical hooker name, right? Like Satine or Jezebel or something?”

“I– I don’t know,” he laughed. You tilted your head to look at his face.

“You sure you’re a virgin, honey? You have that heartbreaker look about you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he laughed nervously, looking to the floor. “Yes, I’m sure. I think I would’ve noticed.”

“I just mean, you could probably find some sweet little thing to do it with, especially when you’ve got this uniform on.”

“You know, you say that, and I suppose you’re right… and yet…”

“So what was it, then? Are you… waiting for the right person?” you asked coyly, your fingers trailing up his leg lightly. He watched your hand’s path with wide-blown eyes and shaky breaths.

“Uh,” he stammered, “no, definitely not– definitely not that.”

“Good,” you smiled, “because I am all kinds of wrong for you. But you’re not alone, you know. A lot of people think it’s best to get it out of the way with someone like me, that way you’re ready when you meet somebody you want to take home to Ma.”

“R-right,” he nodded, “I’m not sure I’ve thought it through that much.”

“You’re just tired of waiting,” you posited. “You just really, really need to know how it feels to be with a woman.”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a sigh as your touch wandered impossibly close but never really got to where he wanted, “something like that.”

“Sounds good to me,” you smiled, pulling your hand away; he seemed simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

“So…” he began, “what do we do? I mean, what do you do?”

“Anything you want, hun. Within reason, I suppose.”

“…anything?” he asked with wide eyes.

“Let’s not get too caught up in that,” you laughed. “Let’s start simple. Get undressed for me please, darling. I’d like to look at you.“

He stood up and faced you, and you waited on the sofa expectantly as he began to work open his jacket, and undo his tie.

His trousers were next, and you noted the sense of urgency as he kicked off his shoes. You smiled a little as you watched him strip: it was an enjoyable sight, certainly.

Soon he was naked except for his underwear, which he nervously fiddled with but didn’t remove.

"Well? You plan to do it with those still on?”

He laughed a little, and blushed. “It’s just that… I’m not sure…”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready, son. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to… I can give you the money back if you don’t wanna–”

“No!” he interrupted sharply, then softened. “No, I wanna… I want to. I’m just a little afraid, because… this is usually the part where things go wrong. They see it and they change their mind.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” you soothed, “just let me get a look at it, alright?”

He nodded a little as he reached for the waistband again, and finally pulled the fabric down.

You tried to keep a poker face when you saw his cock, but it was the exact opposite of what you’d expected based on his nervousness. That said, you understood now why girls changed their mind when they saw it. It was an absolute beast, easily one of– if not _the_ – biggest you’d encountered in all your work. It made the rest of him look a little more lean by comparison… and it wasn’t even fully hard.

“It's… it’s not too big, is it?”

“No, it's… I can handle it,” you said with mostly-authentic confidence, but you figured your face showed your hesitation.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let’s not worry about that now. We need to get you at full mast first anyway.”

“Am I gonna be alone in my nudity here?”

“If you want me to get undressed, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“If only it were always so simple,” he laughed, but then his face got more serious. “Um, can you stand up, please?”

You did as he said, and looked to him for your next command.

“Um, take off your heels,” he proposed, and you did. “Could you… please take off your blouse?” You nodded and unbuttoned it revealing the slip underneath. “And… and your skirt, please.” You shimmied it off as well, and let the slip fall away without making him ask for it. 

“You have a great body,” he praised. “Turn around,” he demanded, but then added a softer “please.”

You did as he asked, facing the opposite wall and feeling the heat of his stare on your back.

“Wow,” he breathed, “you’re… you look great.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smiled, turning to face him again. “Come over here,” you requested, curling your finger. He obeyed, stepping towards you until his body was just inches from yours, his eyes scanning your face.

You wrapped your hand around his length, feeling it get a little harder in your grip.

“Oh,” he sighed shakily.

“Anybody ever touched you here before?”

“N-no, ma'am. I mean, through my clothes, once or twice, but never like this… oh, your hands are so soft.”

You hummed in encouragement as you stroked him a little more firmly, watching his face as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Can– can I touch you?”

“Of course,” you cooed, and felt his arms wrap around you before trailing up your sides. He looked down at you again.

“You have… really nice breasts,” he said in a low voice.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You can feel them, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, “I’m, uh, working up to that.”

You giggled a little and felt his hands move in more.

He kissed you suddenly and you reciprocated; his lips were unexpectedly soft, yet his kiss was more demanding than the rest of him had been so far. It caused arousal to tingle between your legs, something you hadn’t felt from a kiss in quite some time.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled back, “I should’ve asked first…”

“Don’t worry so much,” you scolded, “I’ll stop you if I’m upset, I can take care of myself. And a kiss is the least of my concerns.”

“But sometimes it’s against the rules.”

“I don’t have any rules,” you shrugged. 

“That seems dangerous,” he shuddered.

“It’s gone alright for me so far– and I have a weapon in case it goes sideways.”

“Where?!” he asked with wide eyes.

“Hmm, if I told you that, it would defeat the purpose, darling.”

“True,” he relented. “But, you do trust me, right?”

“As best I can,” you replied coolly. “I don’t know you very well.”

“Would you like to get to know me better?”

You grinned. “Very much so.”

His hands finally trailed up to your breasts, delicately cradling them as he took in a deep breath. His thumbs traced over your nipples and you jumped a bit at the jolt of sensation.

“Is this alright?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Do you like the way I’m stroking your cock?”

He seemed a bit uncomfortable with that language, and swallowed before answering. “Y-yes, I do.”

“Why don’t you have a seat in that chair, sweetheart?”

“What… what’s gonna happen there?” he asked as if he really didn’t know. Did he really not know?

“I’m just going to show you something,” you dismissed. He took the seat, looking up at you from it with an adorable nervousness in his eyes. You followed him and dropped to your knees, pushing his legs apart a little as you leaned in.

“Oh,” he sighed.

“So you do know what’s going to happen here,” you smiled.

“I… have a few ideas,” he admitted.

You wrapped your hand around him again and his grip on one of the arms of the chair tightened. “Why don’t you ask me nicely, soldier?”

“We both know what’s gonna happen,” he protested.

“Yeah, but I’d rather you say it.”

“Alright,” he relented. “Please, uh, put… put it in your mouth.”

You would’ve preferred he used the correct term instead of ‘it’, but you saw the look on his face and decided to show a little mercy. Holding his erection firm, you leaned down and licked the head lightly before taking it between your lips. He gasped a little, a hand instantly wrapping around your arm. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to stop, but figured he would say something if he did, so you just got to work, using a spit-slicked hand to cover the (significant) portion of him that your mouth couldn’t reach. The other hand started a path up his thigh before cupping his balls.

Soon you were in a simple pace of bobbing your head, opening your throat, twisting your hand… that part felt like a routine, but the way he gasped and moaned and squirmed underneath you made it feel new.

“Oh, oh god,” he whimpered, his hand sliding up your shoulder to wrap around the back of your neck. “Please slow down, please, before I– I don’t want to, in your mouth, oh please please stop I–“

"It’s alright,” you soothed, pulling off of him. “You don’t have to finish yet. The session doesn’t end when you come, though.”

“It doesn’t?”

“You paid for the hour.”

“Well, what’s the difference?”

“You’re 18,” you recalled, “I bet you can go twice in a row can’t you?”

“Sometimes I can, when I’m really…” he trailed off.

“Are you really?”

“Yes,” he nodded feverishly. “Very, very really.”

“So, how’s about I don’t stop this time, and you finish in my mouth first?”

“That’s an option?!”

“Did you not know people did that?”

He blushed a little. “I didn’t think girls would let you…”

“Most girls won’t. Hopefully you can appreciate that I am not like most girls.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I can.”

You started back again, a little more lackadaisical in your pace this time, focusing now on licking for a moment, looking up at him all the while. The way he looked back at you would make you think you’d hung the moon or something.

He hesitantly weaved his hand into your hair, but pulled away. 

“It’s okay to grab it, sweetie.”

“I wouldn’t want to mess up your curls,” he explained.

“If my curls are intact at the end of this, you did something wrong,” you laughed.

“Oh… okay.”

“Do whatever feels right, honey. You can pull me around with it. Or just let me get to work. But don’t be embarrassed.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

You took him into your mouth again, applying more pressure with your tongue this time, and forcing yourself not to smile when you felt his hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just stroking your hair.

“I’m not gonna take very long,” he admitted with a low voice. “It won’t be much longer, oh god, you’re so good… it feels really, really good.”

You doubled your efforts, gripping him a little tighter, taking him a little deeper into your throat; he responded by bucking his hips up into your throat.

“Oh god, oh my god, oh my fucking god,” he moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna– _oh god_ – can I? I’m so close, oh fuck.”

You did your best to nod although you weren’t sure he could feel it. You couldn’t believe he was still asking permission, having come this far.

“Yes, yes, yes, like that, oh god, fuck, I– yes!” 

He yelped, and the hand in your hair tightened as you felt his cock flexing and pulsing in your mouth. You hummed and looked up at him, only to find him staring at you with the most erotic mixture of shock, longing, and pleasure on his face. His mouth was hung slack and he used your hair to pull you up a little, so he could look at you better as he filled your mouth with his seed. It was that perfect balance of sweet and filthy that made a surge of wetness gather at your opening. Honestly, you’d be surprised if it wasn’t running down your thigh at this point.

“Shit,” he laughed a little, sounding exhausted, “that was… you look so good with my cock in your mouth.”

His hand relaxed and you slowly pulled off of him, adding some pressure to make sure you had every last drop on your tongue. He shivered, and smiled.

“Can… can I see it?” he asked.

You leaned back a little and opened your mouth, letting his spend pool on your tongue.

“Oh… wow,” he said softly, his hand running over your cheek. “Are you… gonna spit it out?”

You closed your lips and swallowed it, and he gasped a little. “No,” you answered with a smirk, “but I am gonna rinse my mouth out now if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he nodded, and you stood up, grabbing a crystal glass and taking it to your sink to fill with water. “It doesn’t taste too bad, does it?”

“No, I don’t mind the taste,” you answered, “it’s mainly for your comfort. A lot of guys don’t like to taste it later on if they wanna kiss.”

As you brought the glass to your lips, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see him standing behind you, looking at you with a familiar expression: want.

“Let me taste myself on you,” he requested. “I want to taste what you’ve done to me.”

You set the glass aside and let him pull you into him, kissing him back as his tongue instantly began to slide against yours. He hummed into you, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair, the other tightening at your waist.

You let yourself really fall into it, really think that this was a real kiss, just a guy and a dame on a date, irrelevant to what you had just done and that you were both naked and that you were going to do it all again at 6:30, and 7:30, and 9:00.

When he pulled back, and traced his thumb over your cheek, you were the one that had to stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him again.

“Can we get on the bed?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, that seems like a good idea.”

You started to pull back so you could get on with the whole ‘walk to the bed’ plan, but then he suddenly scooped you up into his arms and you yelped in surprise.

Of course, it was just a walk across the room, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder anyways.

He dropped you rather unceremoniously on the mattress, but before you could complain he was climbing on top of you, caging your head in with his hands.

“You are beautiful,” he announced suddenly. “Why do you do this? You seem like you could find a husband real easy.”

“You’d think,” you smirked.

“Do to a guy what you just did back there,” he laughed, motioning his head back towards the chair, “and I’m sure he’d be breaking out a ring in no time.”

“Well, I just did it to you,” you recalled, “so where’s my diamond?”

“I meant a guy who wasn’t about to ship out to some godforsaken European village,” he explained.

“Yeah, not many of those left.”

He sat back and ran his hands over your legs. “You’ve got great legs.”

“Want me to open ‘em?”

“Of course I do, but I’m trying to be a gentleman about it.”

You laughed. “Let go of that dream.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Open your legs, then.”

You bit your lip in response to the more dominant tone, and did it. You felt pretty exposed with him staring at you like that, but you were used to the feeling.

He reached out with two fingers and slid them along the trail of arousal inside your thighs.

“So wet,” he observed.

“Mmhmm,” you agreed.

“Is it always like this? Or is it just for me?”

“I prefer not to talk about my other clients during an appointment,” you frowned.

He leaned down, hovering over you again, with a serious look on his face. His fingers moved up to slide between your folds; he breathed slowly as if to calm himself.

“I won’t ask anything else, just tell me the truth,” he requested.

“It’s… been a while since I’ve reacted so strongly,” you admitted. “I hope that satisfies your curiosity.”

“I wanna taste it,” he whispered, “I wanna taste you.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you,” you smiled.

He leaned down to kiss you, softly, before beginning to trail down your body.

You closed your eyes, hoping to distract yourself from the sense of desperation growing in your gut, but he stopped. “Open your eyes,” he demanded. You did, and he continued only once you watched him kiss along your stomach, hips, thighs.

“Oh god, Bucky, just get on with it, please,” you begged.

“All you had to do was ask,” he grinned.

Shit, where had this guy come from? Amazing what one blowjob’ll do to a man’s attitude.

He licked a stripe right through your folds and you gasped. He did it again, this time putting enough pressure on your clit to make your leg twitch. He took note and repeated the movement, before finally wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You felt your back arch and you had to break the eye contact before you hurt yourself.

He stopped for a moment to speak. “Is this good? Am I doing it right?”

This Bucky was more familiar, and made your heart clench a little bit.

“Yes, sweetheart, you’re doing great.”

“Are you gonna come?”

You laughed a bit. “Well, that’ll take a little while…”

“That’s okay. I wanna make you come. I’ve got time. We’ve got time, don’t we? There’s 40 minutes left in the hour. Is that enough?”

You were taken aback by his desire to pleasure you. “Um, yes, I think I can manage to come in the next 40 minutes.”

He got back to work suddenly, and you laced your hands into his hair. He moaned a bit against your skin as he licked and sucked urgently. You could’ve stood for a bit more a build-up but you certainly didn’t mind him cutting to the chase, either.

He hit the perfect spot and you involuntarily pulled him into you; he seemed to get the message, gasping for breath against you as he lapped at your clit incessantly.

He stopped only to spin his tongue in circles around it and sparks of energy lit up your skin until the hairs on the back of your neck were standing up.

“Oh, oh god,” you moaned, “I’m gonna… you’re going to make me come.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, voice muffled with your sex in his mouth.

“Yes, oh god, yes, just keep going.”

It was a slow but sure build as you felt your body tensing up, your toes curling and your fingers unintentionally pulling his hair. He didn’t seem to mind, though he did encourage you as much as he could.

“Please come, please come, come for me,” he whimpered.

“Bucky, I will, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” he begged, “oh god, I want you to.”

And your own moans mixed in with his as you started to rub your hips against his face, all of it culminating in a shock of pleasure as you came, your whole body feeling like a rubber band pulled until it finally snapped.

“Fuck!” you yelped as you reached the peak, loud enough to worry someone outside would hear.

He kept going until you had to pull him off of you, mustering all your strength to sit up and kiss him again. It was messy and wet with your come and you didn’t mean to moan against him but you did, and his hands felt so strong and rough in the most perfect way as they pressed against your back.

“Did you come?” he asked as he pulled back. You nodded. “Really? Oh my god,” he laughed. “I can’t believe I just made this amazing woman make _those_ amazing noises.”

“I can very much believe it,” you replied. “You’ve got a talent, Barnes.”

“Probably not one that the Army can use, right?” he laughed.

“Let’s hope not.”

He laid you back down, kissing you one more time before sitting up and observing the way his cock cast a shadow over your opening.

You waited for a moment, but got a little nervous when he didn’t move.

“Is everything alright?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’s just… it’s very peculiar,” he breathed, “to have a beautiful woman lying naked underneath me… waiting for me.“

 _It’s very peculiar for a man to make me wait this long_ , you thought to yourself. 

"All I have to do now is– is push in,” he added like he barely believed it.

“Mmhmm,” you agreed. 

“Do… do you want me to?”

“Yes, Bucky, I do,” you answered, hoping that your slight impatience didn’t show through. “Do you want to be inside me?“

"God, yes,” he sighed.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“It's… it’s a lot,” he explained, and though you couldn’t tell if he meant physically or mentally, your response was the same either way.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” you encouraged, and he did. “Do whatever you want to do, that’s what I’m here for. But as a woman, as the person underneath you right now… please put your cock in me.”

He let out a shaky breath as you said that, and reached down to guide his head towards your entrance.

“Just, not all at once,” he said, somewhat to himself. “A little at a time.”

“Sure,” you nodded.

He pressed forward, just barely, and you hissed at the stretch even when it was just such a small piece. You could tell this was going to be an interesting ordeal already.

“Ohhh _hhhh my god_ ,” he gasped, his voice getting shaky and a little higher-pitched. “Oh, my head is inside you, oh my god,” he rushed as he looked down to where your bodies were joined, “oh fuck…”

“How does it feel?” you asked sweetly.

“Warm, so warm it’s almost hot. And– and slippery… really wet, and smooth, and did I mention it’s warm?”

“Yes, you did.”

“‘Cause it’s so warm oh my god.”

You laughed a little, but then he moved in a bit more and you had no choice but to moan. You forced your body to relax, but even then he was a lot to take. The edge of pain was more enjoyable than you cared to admit, and you felt yourself get even wetter, as if you weren’t already soaked.

“It’s– it’s tight. You’re tight, _fuck_ , so tight around me,” he groaned.

He pushed forward a bit more and your hand shot out to his thigh instinctively, holding him back.

“Does it hurt?” he asked with the sweetest tone of concern to his voice.

“A little,” you admitted. “Just… take it slow, alright? There’s no rush.”

“Okay.”

After a deep breath, you nodded for him to move forward again and both of you made an almost pained noise, for slightly different reasons. 

“Stop,” you winced.

“What did I do wrong?" 

"No, baby, you’re fine, I just need a little more time.”

“Okay,” he nodded, but you saw the desperation on his face.

“You’re so good,” you soothed, “you’re doing so well, I can’t wait to feel all of you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “don't… don’t talk like that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want this to be over too soon.”

“Give me a little more,” you instructed, and he did, both of you moaning as your head fell back.

“Oh, baby,” he praised. “Can I call you 'baby’?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “you can call me anything.”

“Please let me fuck you,” he sighed, “please let me fuck you, please please please I need to be all the way in–”

“Go ahead,” you nodded, and finally he pushed the rest of himself inside you, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, oh my god, fuck.”

You hissed in a breath through your teeth, feeling your back arch somewhat without your input. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, his face burrowing into the curve of your neck.

“Can we just… stay like this? For a minute?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, of course,” you nodded, running your fingers down his back until he shivered under your touch.

After a few moments passed with only the sound of your collective breathing filling the room, you felt his hips shifting a little.

“It’s okay to move,” you whispered, “I want you to. I want you to fuck me.”

He pulled back just barely before moving in again, setting a slow and intimate pace. Each stroke was a little deeper than the last, and pulled another shaky breath from both of you.

“Oh my god, yes,” he hissed, pulling you closer. 

“Bucky,” you moaned, sort of just to hear his name again, and he smiled, leaning down to kiss your neck. It felt wonderful, but you needed more, so you guided him to your lips by his hair; he kissed you, deep and hungry and needy, as he started to move faster.

“Oh god,” he moaned, still so close to you that his lips brushed with yours as he spoke, “oh my god, baby, it feels so good, you feel so good.”

“You too,” you nodded, “you feel good too.”

“I wanna fuck you so hard,” he admitted with a whimper.

“Do it,” you challenged, “I can take it. I want it.”

And just like that, his hips were slamming into you, fast and desperate. You nearly screamed as you felt him fill you more than you thought was possible, and more than anything it was, simply put, intense.

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” you yelped, wrapping your legs around his hips. He gasped, baring his teeth a little.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice so raw it was nearly a growl.

“Yes,” you nodded, “fuck me harder.”

He laughed a little, and bit your lip lightly as he obeyed, holding your hips down to pump into you faster, deeper, and so hard you knew you would feel it tomorrow. 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you sobbed, accidentally digging your fingernails into his shoulders.

Pleasure surged through you as his cock somehow managed to apply pressure in all the right places, and you could barely believe that you were already tumbling down into another orgasm.

“I wanna come inside you,” he hissed, his lips right against your ear, his hands pulling you onto him by your hips. “I wanna feel my come inside you.”

“Please,” you whimpered, “I want it. Oh my god, I want it.” You weren’t sure which of you was more shocked by that statement.

“Are you gonna come? I’m so close. I want you to come with me. Please, baby, I wanna make you come,” he gasped.

If his cock inside you wasn’t enough, which it was, his words certainly pushed you over the edge. His innocence and desperation were understandably endearing but also shockingly hot. You didn’t often feel very special in this line of work, but something about this felt special.

“Yes, I’m gonna come,” you promised, “just don’t stop.”

A series of increasingly-louder moans poured from his lips, and finally it culminated in a gasp of your name as he spilled inside you, burying himself as deep as he could.

It was the way he said it that sent you spiraling into pleasure, and you felt your entire body tighten and release a few times as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

The first thing you perceived as you came down from your high was that you were gross and sweaty; the second thing you perceived was that you didn’t care as much as you thought you would.

“Thank you,” he murmured sleepily.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, I’m not doing you any favors,” you chuckled.

“You liked it though, right? It was good for you?” he asked nervously, sitting up a little to look down at you.

“Certainly,” you smiled. “I thought that was obvious.”

“I was worried you would fake it,” he admitted, “but then you, uh, you tightened around me and… if that’s fake, consider me fooled.”

“Not fake,” you assured, “I’ve no interest in fooling you anyhow.”

He hummed a little, running a finger across the side of your face. “Maybe, but I’m a fool for you regardless.”

You scoffed, looking away. “Don’t go falling in love with me, soldier. Not gonna do either of us any good.”

“Alright, I won’t,” he smiled, “but maybe I could see you again?”

“As long as the money’s coming, honey, you can visit as often as you like.”

“You got a loyalty program? Punch card?”

You shoved his shoulder as you laughed. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed this much with a client before. “No, I don’t.”

He fell down beside you, and pulled you closer until you felt like your entire body was wrapped in his arms. “Can I just hold you until the hour’s up?”

“Of course,” you smiled, melting into his warm embrace. “My next appointment isn’t until 6:30. You can stay until then, if you’d like. But I’ll have to get up at some point to shower and fix my hair.”

“I won’t overstay my welcome,” he decided, and you felt oddly disappointed. 

“You’re always welcome here.” 

“Provided I’ve got the money?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

“And once I ship out? Could I… write to you?”

“Write?! I’m sure you’ll have better things to do than be pen pals with a Long Island hooker.”

“And you’ll probably be too busy,” he added with a hint of sadness gracing his tone.

“Gimme a call when you get back,” you offered instead, “how’s that sound?”

“You’re assuming I’ll get back in one piece.”

“Eh, I don’t mind if you’ve got a few pieces missing,” you smirked. “Just, keep this one intact for me,” you grinned as you gripped him between his legs.

“I’ll certainly do my best,” he laughed. “Rather fond of it myself.”

You did see him again, and he was the client you lied to the least, and the one you looked forward to the most. Mainly because he was so fun to talk to, but certainly not unrelated to the quality of the sex. He did get cockier over time, even going so far once as to make you say that he was the only one who could make you come like that. And even if it was true, you knew it was a really bad idea to be panting “only you” over and over during sex with a client. You figured he thought it was a lie, and you decided to convince yourself it was too. The conversations were the best, and worst, part of seeing him. Afterwards he’d always stay for the full hour, lie next to you and tell you about other girls he’d met, how knowing you had made it all easier, and you were genuinely happy for him even if an unfamiliar tinge of jealousy knocked on your brain.

And you did also get some letters from him after he deployed, like he promised, for quite some time. Those hurt even more than those pillow talk conversations, because he got a lot more sentimental, and a lot more honest. He asked you to send a picture that he could keep for morale; he talked about how a part of him was always gonna love you.

It was never the part he made decisions with, though, and you stopped replying when it got too hard to keep doing what you did because you could only think of him. You told him in your last letter that you weren’t interested in falling for a client at all, let alone one who was surely gonna get blown up– and you really regretted saying that, but it got the point across and he stopped writing. If only you’d known then that it wouldn’t make your work any easier, and that it wouldn’t make you get over him. The last time you saw him was on a newsreel at the cinema– you nearly threw up when you saw him, covered in dirt and blood, that innocent look entirely gone from his eyes. 

“Is that your soldier?” the woman sitting next to you asked quietly when she saw your eyes get watery.

“No,” you answered softly, and you hated yourself for ever thinking that it made a fucking difference, as if this would be any worse if you could honestly say ‘yes,’ as if you could choose not to be attached just because you’d told him to get lost. You really hoped that he was somebody’s soldier, that somebody was gonna be there for him when he got back.

You had no way of knowing that he didn’t get back. And it was probably better that way. In your mind, James Barnes got a happy ending, the white picket fence and wife and family that he deserved. And at least he got it somewhere, right? 


End file.
